Les O'Dell

Not long ago, I discovered a copy of the 1972 Sears Christmas catalog. It brought back lots of memories.

As with all great discoveries, I wrote a column about it. However, it’s really tough to share all of the wonderful things shared in this book in just 600 words (my column is at the end of this post), so please let me share some of the actual pages from the catalog. (All of the images and descriptions on the catalog pages are copyright, Sears, Roebuck and Co., 1972.)

This was in the first few pages of the catalog–where they show all of the cutting edge items. For just $98.95, you could be the first on your block to add 4 + 3.

I actually had those pants. Enough said.

Girls weren’t able to avoid the ugly clothes either. It’s a wonder any of us ever dated.

Every boy at LT Stone Elementary wanted one of these coats (Bears, of course), but most of us had to settle for the stocking cap. I think the macho-ness of wearing an NFL cap was completely overshadowed by the giant pom-pon on the top of your head.

Merry Christmas, Dad. We’re ready for our inheritance; here, have a smoke! Or, if you’re really sophisticated, item #2 is just for you!

I bet Three Dog Night and The Carpenters sounded far out and groovy on one of these bad boy pieces of stereophonic equipment!

Just what Mom wanted! These electric fondue sets were on the second page of fondue products in the catalog. Wow!

I could have been the Justin Bieber of my day if I would have made laps at the Grand Roller Rink in these. the Grand Roller Rink with these. Maybe if I would have had a pair, I would have gotten to participate in the Couples Moonlight Skate, but since I didn’t have these–just the rental ones instead–I had to wait for that sorrowful announcement: “Next Skate, All Skate.”

Barbie was definitely in touch with her inner hippie back in ’72.

It was okay for boys to play with dolls as long as they had fuzzy facial hair and Kung-Fu grip. Oh, I’m sorry. I meant it was okay for boys to play with action figures…

Got to admit, Fisher Price toys were (and still are) very cool. If I remember right, the houseboat actually did float. I always wanted the airport, but I must have been a neglected child.

I guess Sears thought the really cheap toys deserved to be printed in black and white. Doesn’t matter, though, these were some great games!

Nothing says “I love you” to your daughter more than a playset in “harvest gold” and is complete with sharp and potentially lethal metal edges.

I always wanted one of these…that was until I played with one at a friend’s house. The advertisement says “Total Team Control.” Funny, all I remember is “Total Lameness.” The players just wobbled around in circles. Catching passes was tough and scoring touchdowns was almost impossible. It was like an early electric version of the Indianapolis Colts without Peyton Manning.

Here’s the column I wrote based on the catalog:

Over the years, Christmas gift giving has gotten easier. Giving practically any gift is possible now thanks to the magic of eBay, Amazon and other websites. I mean, it used to be that giving someone like me a fabulous gift (are you catching this, family?) such as a custom-lettered Alaska Aces minor league hockey jersey would have required countless phone calls, letters, homing pigeons and maybe even a trek to Anchorage. Today, click-click, and I’m a happy camper.

            But, the years have taken away some of the joy of Christmas, especially for those of us who remember waiting impatiently for the arrival of the department stores’ Christmas catalogs.

            Sears, JCPenney and Montgomery Ward all sent their catalogs to our house and my brother and I would spend hours—if not days—trying to carefully choose what to ask Santa to bring us. I remember Sears’ catalog was called the “Wish Book” and boy, did we do some wishing!

            I recently found a perfectly preserved copy of the 1972 Sears Wish Book and leafing through it not only took me back to being a kid again, but also made me question the sanity of all of us back then.

            The cover features Winnie-the-Pooh. I recognize him because there used to be a huge one at Sears that I saw when Mom took me to buy the polyester plaid pants featured on page 191.

            The catalog is an inch thick and totals 601 pages of “what-were-they-thinking.” With each flip of a page comes a new adventure in 70s chic (pronounced “shlock”). Page 12 declares, “Look what Sears has done with Fake Furs…it’s one of the highlights of this 1972 Wish Book!” What Sears had done was create fake fur bedspreads, pillows, pillow shams and of course rugs in exotic colors such as lynx, mink, silver fox and polar bear. Enough with the pillows. Looking back, they’re all a sham.

            The catalog has enough double-knit polyester to wrap the globe several times with “Perma-Prest” trousers. There are 8-track players, candle-making kits, sausage, suede hats, suede boots and BB guns.

            Just a few pages in was one of the first handheld calculators. It only allowed users to add, subtract, multiply and divide, but, hey, for the low, low price of $98.95 you could be the first on your block to add four plus three!

            Hidden among the great gifts and clothing were rare items including electric pinking shears, Hawaiian Happy Cake (whatever that is—I think maybe it was banned by the atomic testing ban in 1974) and what the catalog calls a “mod alarm clock on a pedestal.” Groovy.

            But of course, the real reason anyone looked at the Christmas catalog was for the toys. All the really cool stuff started on page 456 (or page 409 if you were a girl—my brother and I usually skipped right past that stuff). Here were all of the steel toys with sharp edges, chemistry sets and everything else that we carefully included on the list we presented to Mom and Dad as well as Santa.

            There were NFL pajamas, Matchbox cars and construction sets, GI Joes, Fisher-Price toys, bicycles, models and games. We pestered our parents for all of it, and found much of under the tree. But looking back through the catalog and the pages of the years, it’s not the toys and games I remember most, but the stories and events that went with all of them—even the suede hat and boots. The 1972 Christmas Wish has become a lifetime of memories book, bringing a Santa-bag full of recollections and great stories.

Hope your season is filled with lots of great memories. Merry Christmas!